


And the World Never Knew

by DyedViolet



Series: And the World Never Knew [1]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: (I watched season 2 as it was coming out but stopped halfway through and didn't finish until today), (yes i cried so very much), Gen, Post-Canon, Spoilers, The World Never Knew AU, aka governments dont act like they did at the end of the series, aka i'm nostalgic and want to have fun with them, so many spoilers omg dont read if you havent finished the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:32:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19478827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyedViolet/pseuds/DyedViolet
Summary: Governments don’t tell their people about life-threatening crises if they can help it. They make coverups, hand out hush money, and would sooner die–or kill–than let the media get ahold of their biggest stories.So the world never knew about the assassination classroom.





	And the World Never Knew

**Author's Note:**

> whaddup im jared im 19 and i wrote this in under an hour immediately after bawling my eyes out at the ending of assclass.

When the lasers hit the school, the government holds a press conference. They say there’s a contaminant up there, that it’s been discovered only recently. They say that, while it’s not contagious person to person, they still need to monitor the students for any symptoms. They say they’ll have it all cleaned up just in time for graduation.

It’s all lies, but only thirty or so people know enough to come up with a better explanation. Twenty-eight of them take matters into their own hands.

* * *

After all is said and done, after the adrenaline and tears of the night have taken their toll, class 3-E wakes in their classroom on their last day belonging to it. Their grief has been tamed to where their happiness and excitement can shine through it. They laugh together, joke together, and prepare to graduate together.

“We’ll have to ask out folks to bring our uniforms,” Maehara points out, and something about that phrase strikes Karasuma as odd. He looks at them, all in matching grey, as clean-pressed as they could have hoped after sleeping in them. How much school work have they done in those outfits? How many times have they learned assassination, together dressed just like that?

“I don’t see the point in bothering your parents,” he pipes up, and the class quiets to stare at him curiously.

“After all, you’re already in uniform.”

They look between each other, small smirks blooming like the flowers outside. 

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine with that.”

“Less effort sounds good to me.”

“Let’s give the main campus one last surprise!” 

Maybe he’ll regret encouraging them to stand out like this. Not today, though. Today, their students–his students–are graduating from junior high and assassination all at once.

* * *

Gakushu can’t wrap his head around it. Graduation day at the main campus, and class 3-E shows up dressed like characters from a military video game. What’s worse, not a single teacher, not even the principal, have said a single word to them about wearing the proper uniform. An undercurrent of confusion infuses the celebratory mood of the room, and yet–it’s fitting. The students shrug it off as another upset from the satellite campus, the parents are just pleased their oddball children graduated with better grades than they started with. Even Gakushu has to accept it–it’s just more of the same that they’ve had all year. A familiarity to send them off before high school.

It doesn’t stop him from tracking down his father after the last diploma has been handed out.

“What was that? For you of all people to allow your students to show up to their own graduation out of uniform, there must be a reason.” He just smirks, more infuriating than ever for the mischief replacing the usual cruelness.

“On certain technicalities, they were in uniform, but the whole story is not mine to tell. Have fun finding your answers, Gakushu.” Deciding the conversation is over, he turns on his heel to do exactly that.

Near the doors, moments from slinking away from the chatting and photos and doting parents, is Karma. Gakushu is no fool; he knows his answers will not come forth today. They are too complex to be untangled in one conversation, especially with a class so unwilling to reveal them. But he’ll be damned if he lets the day pass without starting the process, at least.

“Akabane!” he calls, and he stops, glances at him a single step from the doors. His glinting eyes say he’s listening, may even be anticipating what’s to come, and absolutely intends to enjoy whatever mess will ensue.

“As you’re the only one staying on at Kunugigaoka, I want to make myself clear: You _will_ be telling me every secret from 3-E, at some point.”

Karma’s trademark devil’s grin paints his words as he answers, “Oh, you’ll get them, and they’ll be the hardest things you’ll ever try to cram into your head. I doubt they’ll even manage to get through your thick skull.”

“We’ll see about that,” Gakushu responds, a challenge without heat. Karma’s grin softens from devil to imp, and he walks out of school without a second glance.

He’ll be back, come next school year. Gakushu can wait a little longer.

* * *

The class is rewarded with their bounty-come-hush money, and it’s more than they’d ever know what to do with. In the end, they decide: Thirty billion yen means one billion for each of them, teachers included. They make down payments for their future schooling, tuck a reasonable amount into their personal accounts, and bring back what they don’t need to the table. Karasuma and Irina buy a house together, better suited to two people and a good distance from both a shrine and a church. With what’s left, they give enough funding to the children’s school to run for years with triple the staff. They still have lots left over.

They buy the shut-down mountain campus together. The principal has shut down the satellite campus, possibly as an apology to them, possibly as a gift. The E class remains at the main building, but modified. He says they’d inspired him to change how it works–a place for the lowest ranked to hone their blades and make a comeback. A place that, still, no one wants to go, but isn’t as bad to be in as it once was.

They still have lots left over.

They make a joint account with what’s left, and an agreement that they’ll only use it for emergencies and group activities. After all, once you’ve had a taste of the life they’ve had, you never want to go back. Maybe they won’t do anything as grand as hijacking spaceships, but they’ll certainly be planning something.

After all, they’re the assassination classroom, now and forever. Even with their blades graduated, something that sharp deserves to be used. 


End file.
